I was grounded for a month for what I call speaking my mind.
My mother calls it being a smartass.
Anyway…..
I was rewatching The Notebook, (with a box of tissues in my hands) and I realized something. Did you know Noah and Ally were apart for seven years as well? I sure as hell didn't! I bloody forgot! Now I feel bad.
And then I realized that's how long I made Takashi stay away from Haruhi.
Ah, the path my mind takes when I'm not looking…
This chapter is dedicated to The Notebook.
There is a poll if you want me to put up my story about what silverware does in the cupboard. NOT dirty, I swear.
The Only Exception
Interesting Developments
It was Sunday. Ah, glorious Sunday. There was something about that day that just did it for Takashi. It made him feel good. He had no idea why. Perhaps it was the fact that Sunday typically meant family day. Takashi yawned, stretching his arms over his head. Today would be a good day to visit his family. He needed to discuss a few things with his mother. Discussing with his father would do no good. Even now, Takashi could sense that his mother still had most of the power in the Morinozuka family.
It had been his mother who had written him out of the Morinozuka will.
It had been his mother that legally disowned him.
It had been his mother who had never tried to help him.
Takashi felt childish resentment rising up within him again. He beat it down hurriedly, not in the mood today. He had never really thought about much when he was little, but it seemed that his father had liked him better than his mother. Akira* Morinozuka would always seem to have time for his son. Yukiko* Morinozuka, however, never seemed to have time for anything. Takashi marveled at the fact that she'd found the time to have two children.
Takashi opened his silver eyes. Something was niggling in his brain, alerting his senses. Something, or someone, was watching him. The man sat up. He looked to the door and found Shinju, his niece, standing quietly in the doorway. A pink bunny was clasped firmly to her chest. Her black hair was ruffled, her golden-brown eyes sleepy. "Shinju?" Takashi muttered, looking at the clock. "It's six in the morning. What are you doing awake?" A tear slipped down his niece's face. She cuddled her bunny self-consciously.
"I-I'm scared."
Takashi was up in an instant, going over to her. "Shinju, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Did you fall out of bed? Did you have a nightmare?" He knelt down, looking into small tear-filled eyes. Shinju stared up at him, crying. Wordlessly, she nodded. "I had a bad dream." The girl whispered quietly. Takashi hugged his niece carefully, smoothing back her hair. "It's okay. It wasn't real. Everything's fine." Shinju hugged back, desperate for comfort only family members could give.
"Shinju, why didn't you go wake your father? Or your mother?" She pouted, pulling back. She picked up her bunny again, looking into its face carefully. "I'm afraid to wake them up. Daddy and Momma have been so tired lately. I don't wanna bother them." Takashi swallowed a lump in his throat. It was too early for Shinju to be doing this in her childhood. "Don't say that, Shinju. C'mon, just go wake one of them up." Shinju placed her gaze on her uncle again.
"But you're already awake. Please, Uncle Takashi?"
"What do you want, Shinju?" The little girl's answer was simple. "To go to sleep." Takashi let out an internal sigh. He'd gotten rusty. He was drawing blanks on the situation. Finally, his silver eyes lit up. "Shinju, I'm going somewhere. Do you want to sleep in my room while I'm gone?" Shinju grabbed his hand tightly, eyes widening. "Uncle Takashi, where are you going? Don't leave!" She began to cry harder. Oh, how Takashi hated to see people cry. Especially girls.
It reminded him of the one girl that he'd caused to cry for so long.
He hated that.
"Shhhhhhh, Shinju. It's okay. I'm going to come back, I swear. I was just trying to help!" Takashi yelped out, trying to quell his niece's sobs. "You get to sleep in that huge bed!" he cried out as a last resort. Shinju stopped abruptly, golden-brown eyes evaluating. "Really?" she mumbled childishly. "Really." In an instant, Shinju was happy again, squeezing her bunny tight. "Usa-chan! Usa-chan! We get a biiig bed! Yaaaaaay!" Takashi smiled. So, it was Usa-chan. He was a little worse for wear, but all and all, it was still Usa-chan. It was good to know that some things of the past remained.
Shinju jumped on the bed, scurrying under the covers like a beetle. Takashi tucked the covers around his niece protectively. She looked so peaceful and adorable. He swallowed a lump rising. He wanted this. To have a child he could protect with every essence of his being, love with every part of his soul. Shinju looked at her uncle expectantly. He stared back, blankly.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Aren't you gonna tell me a story?"
Takashi panicked. 'A story? What kind of story? I don't tell stories! I don't know stories! Shit shit shit!' His niece continued to stare at him. "Uncle Takashi," she said intellectually, "Have you ever told a story before?" The tall man shook his head. "Has anyone ever told you a story before?" Again, another shake. Shinju sighed, sitting up wearily in the bed. "Uncle Takashi, a story's like, Ummmmmm…" the little girl thought hard, sucking her thumb. "A prince and a beauuuuuutiful princess are in love. Then, the princess gets taken by a mean, evil witch. The prince saves her, and they live happily ever after!" Shinju shouted joyously, laugh resonating off the walls.
"Hmmmm….." Takashi mumbled thoughtfully. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. Her long brown hair brushed her back when she walked. And her brown eyes were the loveliest things in the world. She lived in a small kingdom, where not many subjects lived. And everyday, she would ride through town and greet all the subjects. Well, one day as she was riding by, a blacksmith's apprentice looked up at her. He had never noticed this woman before and felt stupid for not doing so. Their eyes met and the princess smiled graciously, as she did with all her subjects. But, somehow the apprentice felt as if that smile looked past his rough hands and musty black hair. So one morning, as the princess was riding by his shop, the apprentice strode confidently up to her. In his hand he held an intricately made silver rose. He had pounded up his own silver coins to make it.
The princess took the rose, smiling graciously as usual, though her brown eyes conveyed her thoughts. They were filled with joy and a deep love for the apprentice. He smiled shyly up at her on her horse. The princess rode away, and the blacksmith's apprentice believed that they were in love. So everyday, he would pound down more of his coins, each day making another silver rose for the princess. She soon acquired enough of them to make an entire bouquet. They began to fall in love, stealing a kiss inside his shop or deep at night in the forest. One day, the apprentice received news that his uncle from another kingdom was fatally ill. The apprentice left town almost immediately that same day, leaving only a silver rose in the place he normally stood.
When the princess rode up, she looked about the shop, confused. She called for the apprentice over and over, wondering why he did not answer. Then finally, the princess found the rose. Attached to it was a piece of parchment, which read the words, "This is the last one, my darling." The princess fell into a deep state of depression. The people of the small kingdom began to worry about their ruler. The country started failing. Crops withered. Families starved. They feared that the kingdom would fall to ruin, unless the princess married. Soon after, a prince rode into town. He boasted to the princess of his money and power, of how he could save her kingdom. He had but one condition. The princess must marry him. Concerned for her people, the princess did so. Seven years passed, and the country began to flourish again. Everyone in the kingdom was happy, save the princess. She yearned for her apprentice. Meanwhile, in the other kingdom, after many years of careful nourishment and love, the apprentice's uncle died. He was buried, and the apprentice returned to his old country. People from his childhood met him joyously, telling him of the marriage.
He couldn't believe his ears. The apprentice couldn't believe that the princess had married. He asked if she still rode around town like she used to. His friends said no, that the princess spent most of her time in the castle with her husband. The apprentice formulated a plan. Cautiously, in the dead of night, he snuck onto the palace grounds, making his way to the princess' room. Standing under the window, the apprentice made the sound of a dove. They had frequently used animal sounds to communicate with one another. A lamp flickered on, and the princess stuck her head out of the window in disbelief. She refused to believe that her apprentice was down there, convinced it was a trick. Finally, the apprentice stepped out from under the ledge, looking up into her face.
Time stopped. Then, with a small cry, the princess ran out of the palace into her waiting lover's arms. Overjoyed to be back with one another, the couple failed to notice a figure watching them from the shadows. It was the prince. The next morning, he-" Takashi stopped, looking down. Shinju was fast asleep, little arms wrapped tightly around Usa-chan and thumb in her mouth. He chuckled quietly. Softly, as to not wake her, he removed her thumb from her mouth. "Sleep well, Shinju." Takashi whispered. The man felt somewhat relieved that his niece had fallen asleep. Takashi wasn't sure how to continue the story from there. In fact, he still wasn't sure.
What would the ending to his story be?
Would it be joyous?
Would it be grief-ridden?
Would there be no ending at all? Doomed to repeat a circle of love, so close yet so far from what he so desperately coveted? Was that really how his life was going to be?
Inhaling the warm, rich-scented summer air, Takashi tried to ease some of the escalating anxiety rising in him. His mind switched tracks to the current situation at hand. He would deal with his personal problems later on.
'Calm down, Takashi. It's no big deal; you're just trying to see your family again. Calm down, it's fine.'
A quiet, mean voice snapped back at him.
'Whatever, you know it's not going to be the same. You probably destroyed them.'
Takashi rubbed his ebony eyes again, weary. He was probably walking into his own death. His mother was going to murder him and adorn the mantelpiece with his body. The man grimaced. Yukiko Morinozuka was a cold, shrewd woman. She was the type to hold a grudge for a very, very long time. The last time he'd seen her, she had been sitting calmly in the courtroom, features perfectly stoic. Her face had always been an immovable rock, just like the rest of her. Her black hair had been scraped back into a severe bun, her cold silver eyes unfeeling. The man felt it was safe to bet that his mother was the same way now.
His feet seemed to have taken him to his given destination. Snapping out of his stupor, Takashi composed his face into what he hoped was a mask of blankness, a wall of non-emotion. Gingerly, he pressed the intercom button, and a voice answered him. It was brisk and to the point.
"Who are you and what is your business here?"
Takashi swallowed.
"I said, who are you and what is your business here?"
"My name is Takashi Morinozuka, and I wish to speak to Yukiko Morinozuka."
A brief pause of silence.
"Mrs. Morinozuka only has one son named Satoshi Morinozuka. I suggest you leave."
"I'm sure if you'd talk to her-"
"Listen buddy, if you don't get your ass out of her in five seconds, I will call the police."
"I need to speak to Yukiko."
"Are you fuc-"
Suddenly, a cool female voice intervened, smoothly silencing the other one. Takashi knew that voice. He shuddered.
"You may enter."
The gates swung open wide, admitting Takashi. As soon as he entered, however, the gates closed immediately, snagging his shirt. Crossly, he looked at the guard on duty. He was a thin, weasely man with a receding hairline. "Sorry, hand slipped." He said, smiling sweetly. As soon as he was free, Takashi flipped the man off, walking away. Seeing his look of outrage, he turned his head and said,
"Sorry, hand slipped."
Takashi walked into the main house quickly and quietly, uneasy. He immediately went to the dining room. That was where his mother always loved to hold her meetings. Yukiko liked to make her opponent feel strange in his own skin, see him shiver in fear. She was like a cat with a mouse. Cautiously, the man rapped on the smooth wooden door. "Enter." A harsh voice called. Takashi slid into the room, gazing upon his mother for the first time in seven years. She had not changed a bit. Everything was the same, still the cruel eyes, the merciless tone of voice, the cold and unyielding body.
"Takashi."
"Yukiko."
"Oh come now, Takashi, where are your manners? It is very informal for a son to speak to his mother that way." Yukiko's smile was sugary sweet. Too sweet to be believed by anyone with even a shred of intellect. "I'm sorry, Mother." Takashi hinted heavily on the mother part. What he really meant was, 'I'm sorry you weren't worthy of being called Mother. Even though I tried so hard throughout these years.' She seemed to notice this, for her silver eyes hardened ever so slightly. "Come. Sit." It wasn't a friendly suggestion, it was a command.
Takashi sat cautiously, choosing a chair to the right of his mother. "What is your purpose here today, Takashi? I wasn't aware that you were out." He looked at her, face just as cold and unforgiving. "It occurred just a few days ago, Mother. I was equally surprised myself." Yukiko smiled again, leaning over to grasp her son's hand. "I bet you were. Especially after all the pain you caused that poor Hitachiin family." Takashi's hand jerked. "I am truly regretful of what I did, Mother. Truly I am."
"No you're not. Not yet anyway, Takashi." The woman grasped his hand more tightly, nails digging into his skin. "Do you have the slightest idea of what happened after your incident, Takashi? Do you know what happened?" Yukiko's tone grew colder. "Well? Do you?"
"Mother, I-"
"Enough." The resounding slap echoed throughout the dark, cavernous room. Takashi looked down, eyes gazing at the carpet. 'Keep your head low, Takashi.' He reminded himself. 'Seem obedient. Try.' "You have brought shame to the Morinozuka family," Yukiko spat harshly, rising in her chair. She moved to the large window dominating the room, gazing outside. "Because of you, our entire family has been demoted! We are no longer invited to parties, events, or business meetings of any sort because of your reckless behavior! The Hitachiin empire threatened to sue us. It was only by hiring one of the Ootori brothers that we avoided a lawsuit. The Suoh family wants nothing to do with us thanks to your brutality. The only families we remain in contact with are the Ootoris and Haninozukas.
"You have caused this family nothing but shame." Ending her chastising of her son, Yukiko turned, sitting down once more. "As such, you are no longer welcome on these grounds. Leave at once." Her words were cold, unforgiving. Takashi took it all without flinching. He was used to this. To him, it was rather unnerving that his mother hadn't shouted as she used to do. She had become more dangerous with age. Suddenly, Takashi felt a strong bout of courage rise up within him. The eldest Morinozuka raised his head, looked into his mother's fathomless eyes, and said,
"No."
Yukiko started. "What did you just say?" Takashi straightened himself, drawing himself up to his full six feet two inches. "I am not leaving, Yukiko Morinozuka, until you hear me out." His words were flat and demanding. No love to them whatsoever. Who ever this woman was, she most certainly wasn't his mother. The old woman's face contorted in rage. "You dare-" she shrieked. Takashi cut her off briskly. "Yes I dare." Yukiko stood, raising her gnarled hand to strike again. It was quite a bit of dark humor actually, seeing a woman of only five feet three inches trying to manhandle a giant such as him. Instead of dodging the blow, as most would have, Takashi grasped both of his mother's hands calmly. It was no surprise that the appendages themselves were also icy to the touch. "Mother, please." The man begged, looking into the cold mercury eyes such much like his own. "Just give me another chance. That is all I ask of you. Please, Mother."
The woman regarded her son coolly, the tiniest bit of curiosity evident in her tough features. After a moment of intense staring between mother and son, Yukiko spoke. "Very well, Takashi. I will give you another chance to prove yourself to this family." Takashi smiled, joy briefing skimming his eyes, before leaving just as quickly. It did not go unnoticed by Yukiko, however. 'Ah,' she thought, 'You thought it would be this easy, my son? Surely you didn't.' "There is but one condition." She watched his face fall with a smug sense of satisfaction. "Yes my son, there is a catch. You didn't think it would be this easy, did you?" He wasn't as great at hiding his emotions anymore. Her son had become an open book to the world, a weak link in the chain. He'd gone soft, she regarded with disdain.
"You must refrain from any contact with Haruhi Fujioka. It seems that that girl was the very source of all this misfortune. What you and all the other boys saw in her, I honestly don't know. As such, for your sake and for the sake of this family, you are forbidden from any sort of communication with this girl. There is to be no speaking, touching, no frolicking of any kind. You must remain like this for an entire month. Then, and only then, will you be restored back into this family, and into my good graces."
Takashi flinched, just barely perceptible to any normal human. But his mother caught it, and a smile spread wide across her face. "Now dear, was that so hard?" Yukiko asked, cupping his face in her old hands. "You are a cruel, merciless, cold-hearted shell of a woman." Yukiko's face hardened. Her nails pierced his skin, bruising it. "And you are a bastard.*" Removing her hands, Yukiko Morinozuka strode briskly out of the room.
"You are free to leave."
Takashi stood statue-still, absorbing everything in. "That bitch. That cold, evil bitch." He whispered harshly. He couldn't believe it. He was prohibited from talking, touching or doing anything with Haruhi. Not that he had planned to do anything with Haruhi, but he had hoped she would leave her husband. He wanted her back, but he was going to do it fair and square. Takashi cracked his knuckles. Damn. Shinju's birthday party was tomorrow. Of course, "Aunt Haruhi" would be attending. That was inevitable. Would his mother send someone to tail him and watch his every move? That also seemed inevitable. The tall, brooding man sighed, walking out the door. He was just leaving the grounds when he collided with a large man.
The man in question was Akira Morinozuka. He was the exact model for both his sons. Satoshi and Takashi hadn't wanted anything to do with their mother, so they insisted that they inherited everything from him. And indeed, it seemed that they did. Every single feature about Akira was reflected in his sons, except his eyes. Whereas most of the Morinozuka clan had silver eyes, Akira's were a deep, startling green. They were always filled with honesty and sincerity, letting everyone know the absolute truth. Whether they liked the truth or not.
"Takashi?" Akira whispered, rubbing his eyes. "It is really you?" Many a time had Akira said this, wandering the halls late at night. Every time, it had turned out to be Satoshi, staring at him with pity and shaking his head. Takashi looked down at his father, having risen past his height a while ago. "Hi, Dad." That was another reason that the Morinozuka children had always favored their father. With Akira, it had never been Father. It had always been Dad, taking away all the formality and instead giving the boys a figure they could be close to.
Disbelieving, his father's emerald eyes filled with tears. He embraced his son without words, feeling so lucky to hold him again. "Takashi, you're really back. You have no idea how much you were missed." Takashi found himself wiping at moisture forming in his own eyes. "Satoshi missed you so much. He always visited Mitsukuni and Yasuchika, thinking you'd be there." Takashi grimaced slightly. "I am so sorry." Both men stepped back. "It's all in the past now." Akira beamed, overjoyed. "How long are you planning on staying?" he suddenly whispered, glancing about. He knew how Takashi felt about Yukiko.
Takashi suddenly felt all the fight drain out of him, as if he'd been sapped of energy. "Actually Dad, I was heading back over to Mitsukuni's. I'm living there until I acquire some money." That was a lie. Mitsukuni had offered him money several times already, but Takashi just wouldn't accept it. He felt as if he had to earn a home his own way. It was very difficult. "Alright. I'll see you soon, I hope." Akira's smile never wavered. The two men embraced again.
After waving goodbye to his father, Takashi walked quietly back to Mitsukuni's house, lost in thought. He would talk to Mitsukuni about this problem, that was for sure. Mitsukuni might be able to formulate some kind of plan. Still calculating, Takashi collided solidly with the front door. "Hm?" he snapped out of his reverie, glaring at the obstacle.
Quietly stepping through the doorway, Takashi let out a sigh of heavy relief. He was just climbing the stairs, when he remembered Shinju. He looked at his cell phone wearily. It was only seven. She would undoubtedly be fast asleep. Takashi closed his eyes tiredly, one hand ruffling his ebony hair. He turned back down the stairs, seeking out the sofa. As soon as his head hit the upholstery, Takashi fell into a deep, dream-less sleep.
Haruhi awoke wildly, brown eyes blinking rapidly. Her slim hands flitted around her bed, searching for signs of life. They came up empty. The young woman still didn't relax. Her hands felt under the covers, briefly touching soft clothing before resting. The young woman let a sigh of relief escape. Or was it disappointment? Lying in her bed, Haruhi shook her head, brown hair mussing even more. Hard to tell anymore.
She lay still for a while, reflecting on the dream. The one that made her catch her breath. The dream that sent a rush of white-hot desire straight to her core, making her yearn desperately for it. For that need, that craving, that one thing she had yet to feel….. Haruhi blushed, closing her eyes pleasurably. 'Oh God,' she thought disjointedly, thoughts scrambling. The young woman trembled once, before reason took over with its harsh, cruel reality.
Her brown eyes flew open, realizing the reality of her life with a cold feeling. She sighed, rolling her small body smoothly out of bed. Haruhi traipsed into the master bathroom. On her way to the shower, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. "Ugh." She grimaced, running a brush through the mass that dared to call itself hair. Discarding her clothes and stepping into the shower, Haruhi shivered happily. "Mmmmmm, hot water…" she murmured blissfully.
After the shower, wrapping a soft, white robe around her, Haruhi padded out into the kitchen. A brief omelet and cup of coffee later, she was still sitting at the counter, not knowing what to do now. On an ordinary Sunday, Haruhi would be at the firm already. That may sound unusual to you, but to Haruhi, it was a regular thing. Her boss had called her yesterday evening, telling her to take a personal week off. She had accepted. He also asked if she wanted pizza and a movie. She accepted again.
Within minutes, Kyouya Ootori was standing at her door, pizza in one hand, "The Matrix" trilogies in the other. He stayed for almost the entire night, then left, leaving Haruhi alone to her thoughts. Now here she was, day two of her freedom, and bored to death. She supposed she could go visit Reiko, after all she did have to make decision-making sometime. Haruhi blushed, remembering the last time she went over there, then blushed harder when she recounted her previous dream. It had gone along the same lines as yesterday, but it had gone quite a bit farther. Okay, a lot farther.
Haruhi fanned herself succinctly, before pulling on a dark green summer dress. It was perfect for this time of year and she had been dying to wear it. So, on it went, conforming to her body in all the right places. Maybe it was a bit much, but she did want to look pretty. It didn't hurt, so Haruhi smeared on a tiny bit of mascara to go with it. She smiled a tiny smile at her reflection. It winked back at her.
Minutes later, Haruhi was standing at Mitsukuni's front door, unlocking it with her key. It was nine in the morning; everyone should be getting up soon. She quietly opened the door, calling out softly. "Reiko? Reiko, it's Haruhi." There was no response, but Haruhi let herself in. She'd come to talk to Reiko, and that's what she intended to do. The young woman strode towards the kitchen. But a quiet snore stopped her. Haruhi blinked. Her frame stiffened with the realization that she wasn't alone.
Haruhi turned ever so slowly, fumbling for any weapon of any use. If someone jumped her in this house, they would have one hell of a bruise. She looked for the culprit. What she found was a sleeping Takashi Morinozuka, large frame hanging off half of the couch. Haruhi blushed ever so slightly, pink tinge rising to her cheeks. 'Oh, okay. It's just Takashi.' She breathed out a sigh of relief. Cautiously, Haruhi moved forward. She wanted to see something. Scientists said that you saw a person's true nature when they were sleeping.
She wanted to see if her old boyfriend was in there somewhere.
Barely touching him, Haruhi gently caressed his cheek with her fingertips. His face relaxed and reverted back into the Takashi she'd fallen in love with all those years ago. For a moment, Haruhi saw him again, and it made her heart ache with longing. She smiled sadly, reflecting on how things could've been.
How they should've been.
How they'd taken a turn for the worst.
Haruhi sat there for five minutes, just staring into Takashi's face. What she would give to be back in those arms again. To have her name said that way again, in a way that seemed to be so full of love and admiration. She sighed, touching his face again. At this rate, she wouldn't even care if he woke up right now. With another sigh, Haruhi realized something. The decision had already been made for her. It had been long ago. That first day she met him, it had been decided.
She would always love him.
No matter what.
There was no way of getting around it, no loophole of any sort.
But how, how could she tell him?
How could she say she still loved him, when everyone believed her to be the happiest woman alive?
She just didn't know anymore. That was what this grueling week was for. A week to decide her life. Should it be a life of misery, or a life of love? Haruhi leaned in, whispering quietly into Takashi's ear,
"I love you, Takashi."
Reiko stood in the doorway, hand on her baby, observing the entire scene. Haruhi was very much in love with Takashi, she just didn't know what to make of it. Her marriage with Tamaki was difficult, so many problems. Tamaki failed to see those problems though, the pregnant woman noted. Haruhi would be much better off without him. Indeed. If she married Takashi, Reiko could actually call her sister. Takashi and Mitsukuni didn't behave like cousins. They were brothers, never to be separated. Reiko smiled, her baby corresponding to her thoughts with a few kicks.
Haruhi looked up suddenly, catching her staring. Her face dramatically paled, as if the woman had been caught doing something unholy. Reiko frowned, wondering why Haruhi thought this so wrong. It was obviously right. She could feel her aura around her cousin-in-law. Haruhi's spirit became highly loving, caring, and just plain happy. The same with the aura surrounding her body. It turned the most amazing colors of the sunset, symbolizing love, happiness, and a tiny bit of sadness for her. The aura then enveloped Takashi, wrapping him up in her emotions as well. It was obvious that these two were in love. They were just in deep, deep, denial.
"R-Reiko! I didn't see you there! Uuuum, I was just looking for you and um-" The woman of black magic raised a thin eyebrow. Haruhi hung her head, defeated. "How much did you see?" Reiko smiled, beckoning her friend over. "Enough, Haruhi. I saw enough." Haruhi grew even paler, if that was even possible. "You're gonna tell Tamaki on me, aren't you?" The woman laughed softly, hugging her thin friend. "Now you sound like Shinju." Haruhi laughed nervously, returning the embrace.
"Reiko?"
"Hmmm?"
"I think your baby just kicked me."
"He has been kicking a lot lately." Reiko murmured, brow creasing worriedly. "I wonder if he needs something….." Suddenly, the young woman bent over at the waist, hands gripping a table. "Oh my…" she whispered. "I think what he may want is to get out." Haruhi felt her eyes widen. "You mean?" Reiko nodded, smiling through tears of joy.
"Yes, I know it's terribly inconvenient given the present circumstances, but could wake Takashi? He could probably get to Mitsukuni faster than you can."
Haruhi nodded briefly, before running over to the still sleeping Takashi. On her way over, she tripped over the coffee table leg, arms pin wheeling. The successful not at all planned result (A/N: wink wink ;)) was Haruhi on top of Takashi hip to hip, chest to chest. "Gah!" Haruhi blushed furiously, struggling to right herself. The wiggling awoke Takashi, his big silver eyes widening. "Haruhi?" he said, sitting up abruptly. The woman slid off with a thump on the floor.
"Um, yeah. Hi!" Haruhi said dumbly, waving foolishly. She felt like a complete idiot. She was about to leave when a low sigh swam across the room. "Haruhi? Aren't you forgetting something?" Reiko muttered through little spasms of pain. "What? Oh yeah! Listen you!" Haruhi leapt up, grabbing Takashi by his shirt collar. She tried really hard not to notice how good he smelled. Or how his eyes had darkened with something she couldn't identify when she'd grabbed him. Or how totally kissable he looked…
Haruhi shook her head. "You get your fine ass up there and wake up Mitsukuni! Reiko is in labor and the father of the child should be there, don't you agree? Now go!" With surprising strength for a woman of her size, Haruhi pushed Takashi over the couch arm. He righted himself abruptly, taking the stairs two at a time. At the top step, he stopped and grinned down cockily.
"My fine ass?"
"Just go!"
Haruhi ran over to Reiko, helping out the front door and into a car. "Have you any idea what you're going to name him yet?" Reiko let out a labored breath, smiling happily. "Yes, we're naming him Ichiro*." The two women smiled at each other. Once Mitsukuni, Takashi, and Shinju were all in the car, they sped off to the hospital. Just before Reiko was ushered into the delivery room, she looked at Haruhi and said,
"Your fine ass?"
"Shut up."
Akira is actually the name it says is Takashi's father in the manga apparently. His name is supposed to mean light.
Yukiko= child of the snow. Kinda ties into the whole cold-hearted bitch thing.
When Yukiko says, "And you are a bastard.", I kinda stole that from The Matrix. It's what the Oracle says to Agent Smith. It means, "Illegitimate son." So, Yukiko is basically saying, "Screw you, you're not my son."
Ichiro= first-born son.
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- Danielle. ;)